


Helping Hand

by phdJohnlock



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, No overt kink negotiation, Voyeurism, cis female reader, please use condoms the pull-out method doesn't work guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 20:49:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10474140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phdJohnlock/pseuds/phdJohnlock
Summary: And lo, the author's thirst for Hanzo was palpable and probably inappropriate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a boatload to [Jojo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebatwings/pseuds/bluebatwings) who's a good (thirsty) friend and a good beta. The best line in the fic came from her. I'm sorry for thinking of this and for writing it but I do hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Also: as per the tags, this fic uses language for a cis female because that's what I am. But if you want me to do another chapter using different pronouns or different anatomy, leave a comment and do let me know. I'm definitely not opposed to doing so.

They come to you in the morning, which on the one hand is generous, because it gives you the entire day to think about the proposition. On the other hand, it gives you the _entire day_ to think about the proposition, which might fit the definition of torture.

Their proposition isn’t business. It’s Jesse, hair mussed from sleep, sitting kitty corner from you at the breakfast table, and Hanzo, in a clingy gray t-shirt and sleep pants, across from you. It’s Hanzo asking, voice raspy as always, if you wanted to help them out. To add an extra spark. To be a temporary participant in their relationship.

“What he’s tryin’ to say,” Jesse butts in, “is how would you like Hanzo to fuck you while I sit in the corner and watch?”

Angela walks in just as you choke on your coffee, effectively putting an end to that conversation. Jesse grins, taps you on the shoulder, and says, “Come by later if you want.” The two of them saunter out, cool as a pair of cucumbers.

—-

Which is how you find yourself outside Jesse’s door, heart fluttering in your throat. A couple quick texts throughout the day had laid out some guidelines; you know what you’re getting into. Here goes nothing, you think, and rap your knuckles against the door three quick times. It opens immediately, to reveal Hanzo, prim and proper with his hair tied back in a ponytail, clad in blue. He steps back and ushers you through the door, clicking it shut behind you.

You’re determined not to let this be awkward, because you want nothing less than to jeopardize your chance at… this, whatever it might be called. “Hey,” you say, with a smile. “I’ve got to admit, I was a little taken aback by your, uh, question this morning.” You pause, unsure how to proceed. Hanzo breaks the tension.

“We won’t be offended if you change your mind,” he says. Behind him, Jesse shakes his head emphatically. “However, may I assume you came because you are still interested?”

You can feel yourself blushing, and judging by the smirk lingering on Hanzo’s lips, he can see it too. You nod, heat pooling in your chest. You can’t help flickering your eyes over his body - his bare shoulder, his muscular arms. The inky dragon scales shimmering when he moves. His yellow hair tie falls to the side when he cocks his head.

“Tell me, please.” 

You let out a shaky breath. “Yes. I’m interested.”

“Interested in what?” You swear he must be teasing you, but it doesn't feel malevolent, nor does it dim your want for him. Maybe he likes it, hearing you say the words. Or maybe he likes to call the shots. The thought sends a thrill through you like lightning.

“I want you to fuck me,” you say slowly, and a lazy smile spreads across Hanzo’s face. The corners of his eyes crinkle. He looks warm, and open. Somehow, it’s reassuring. You cross your arms, waiting for the next move. You want to move closer, to touch him, but - 

“And what else?” Hanzo steps toward you instead, reaching out. He skims his fingers down your bicep. They’re warm, and you can feel the callouses from his bow string. Your eyes flicker to Jesse, who tips his head back in a nod, familiar cocky smile in place. He sits down in a chair against the wall, cool and collected. He doesn’t speak. 

“And…” You drag your gaze back to Hanzo, whose dark eyes are fixed on you. God, yeah, you do want this. Your nerves fizzle out and suddenly you’re in the clear. You want this _a lot_ , and you refuse to feel awkward about it. They asked, and here you are. You lift your chin, fixing your eyes on Hanzo’s. “And I want Jesse to watch you do it.”

In response, Hanzo _hmms_ , a deep sound that curls in your belly. “Good,” he replies. “I’ve looked forward to this." He pulls your hand to his mouth and kisses the palm. It’s an unexpectedly tender gesture. He kisses your knuckles, the back of your hand. “If you want to stop, if you dislike something, tell me.” He kisses the inside of your wrist, the faintest touch of his tongue to your skin. “I intend to be good to you.” Heat bursts through your body, and Hanzo takes another step forward and slides his thumb along your jaw. He flattens his palm, cupping behind your neck, large hand cradling you carefully. You’re weak in the knees, somehow, already, and Hanzo’s large form is pressing in against you. You flick your eyes over his shoulder to see Jesse, leaning back in his chair, legs splayed. He’s grinning, clearly unbothered by what’s happening. 

Hanzo snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you flush to him. 

“Eyes on me,” he growls, and leans down to press his lips to your neck. He sucks, a low sound rumbling through him when you whimper in response.

“Unh,” you manage, and he draws back. The gleam in his eyes is wolfish. You immediately lament the distance between you; two minutes in and you're already taken. Hanzo sweeps his eyes down your body, lingering, and presses his tongue to his eye tooth. _Oh._ “Yes,” he says, in response to an unasked question. He slips his hands under your shirt, caressing the soft skin he finds. He repeats himself, “Yes,” only this time it’s softer, sibilant. _Yesss_.

He pulls your shirt off swiftly, dropping it on the floor, and his hands move immediately to your waist, unbuttoning your pants. Hanzo pushes his palms against your skin. One hand slides up to deftly unhook your bra before he brings them to your hips and squeezes. You breathe out, “Shit,” and he takes advantage of your unbalance to push you backward, guiding your fall onto the bed. 

He pulls your pants down, over your feet dangling off the edge, and casts them to the floor. You pull your arms through the straps of your bra while he strips down, quick and efficient, to stand over you. Hanzo’s muscular, you already knew that, but damn, the full sight of his nude form packs a punch. He’s half-hard, already, and you lick your lips. He strokes one hand up his own torso, completely unselfconscious. The sight leaves you a little breathless, and it seems he feels the same way. He eyes your body with a hungry gaze.

“C’mere,” you murmur. He does, bending down to lick a stripe below your bellybutton. Your gasp spurs him on. He grabs the top of your underwear and pulls them down, quick and rough. He throws them to the floor and climbs over you to lower his mouth to your chest, where he places an open-mouthed kiss on your sternum. You’re breathing hard, and Hanzo brings his hand to your mouth to press his thumb inside. Arching your back, you press into his face, lick against the pad of his thumb. He nuzzles into the swell of your breast, then slides his hand down to stroke the wet digit against your nipple.

“Oh, yes. Hanzo.” You writhe underneath him. His warm, hard body is pressing you to the bed, his dark hair fanned across your chest and shoulder. It’s an entrancing sight. He strokes his thumb, drawing mewling sounds from you, teasing. He lifts his head to lick a broad stroke over the nipple, then repositions himself next to you with his chest near your waist. With hooded eyes, he traces a path down your stomach to where his hand sits, cupping your pubic mound. He lazily strokes one finger against your lips, and a smile teases at the corner of his mouth. He looks up at you.

“So wet,” he says, low, and drags his finger again across slick skin. You moan, trying to press closer to him, but he pulls away, squeezing your inner thigh. 

“So eager.” He’s trying to drive you crazy, and you think it's working.

“Your fingers are rough,” you say, but it comes out faint. Hanzo mouths at your breast again, swirling his tongue against the nipple, and you feel his lips curl in a smile.

“They are,” he agrees, sliding two of them against your entrance. He teases, stroking, dragging the rough skin against your slick again and again, circling around your clit but refusing to give you what you’re aching for. From the other side of the room, suddenly, you hear Jesse.

“You gonna make her moan, darlin’?” A thrill runs through you as Hanzo presses the pad of his thumb against you, holding it still. You squirm, craving friction, but Hanzo won't give it to you. He pushes himself up on his elbow, maintaining the position of his hand between your legs and sliding the other hand under your head. He gently rubs his thumb against your temple and presses his lips to your ear.

“Look at Jesse,” Hanzo says, and you obey. Your head lolls to the side, and as your eyes fall on the gunslinger, Hanzo pushes one finger slowly inside you. “Oh!” You gasp as Hanzo moves, and Jesse’s eyelids flutter. His hand cups a visible erection through his pants and he grips tighter, a lopsided grin on his face.

“That's it, sweetheart,” Jesse rumbles. He licks his lips. “You're so good with your hands, darlin’. Make her feel good.” He fumbles with his belt buckle, unclasps it and pushes his jeans and underwear down his thighs. His cock is hard, thick and heavy against his stomach. He takes it in hand and strokes, watching with hooded eyes.

Hanzo groans, and suddenly his mouth is on yours, lips pressing open and his tongue seeking contact. At the same time he strokes his thumb against your clit and slides his finger out, only to press back in with two a moment later. He eagerly swallows your moans, speeding his ministrations until he's pumping into you, stroking his thumb insistently over your sensitive nub. The sound is obscene. 

Hanzo crooks his fingers, hitting your swollen g-spot, and you cry out. “God, yes,” you moan into the kiss, and he pulls his mouth away. He looks down at you with dark eyes.

“Tell me,” he orders, and tightens his grip on a fistful of your hair. For a moment, you see stars.

“More,” you gasp, “god, it feels so good, Hanzo, please.”

You're panting, arching your back, and you're rewarded when his tongue returns to your breast. He licks once, twice, before sucking the nipple into his mouth. You cry out; you feel caught between his fist in your hair, his warm tongue, pleasure building between your legs until it spills over. He pinches your clit between his thumb and forefinger and that's it. You tense, waves of ecstasy rushing through you as your orgasm hits. He's merciless, stroking you through it until you're trembling. 

Hanzo pulls his hand away. You breathe out his name, “Han- _zo_ ,” and his eyelids flutter. 

“Sweetie,” Jesse says, and you both look over to him. He looks a little wrecked, clothes askew, his bottom lip swollen where he's been biting it. “Aw, honey, use your mouth.” He's fucking into his own slick fist, free hand further down, tugging at his balls. Then, “Aw, shit,” he mumbles, pulling his hands away and rolling his eyes to the ceiling, arching with the effort not to spill. After a beat, he calms, and returns his hand to squeeze the base of his cock. “Gonna make me come,” he drawls.

Something in Hanzo’s demeanor snaps. Where he has been gentle and teasing, now, suddenly, he’s urgent. He shifts and slides down the bed and flings your leg over his shoulder and his mouth is _on_ you, no warning. You yell out something indiscriminate, incoherent. Hanzo’s tongue laps at your clit over and over, swirling and suckling, and you watch through half-closed eyes as Jesse thumps his head back into the wall, hips hitching as he watches Hanzo between your thighs. The pleasure builds quickly and intensely, shuddering through you until you clutch a handful of his hair.

“Hanzo, I'm gonna - yes, yes, please, I'm so -” You're keening, pressing his face into you, and he hums against you. Your orgasm hits you again, quickly; as if from a distance, you hear yourself chanting his name while his tongue coaxes you down from your high. 

You let go of his hair and splay your arms to the side. He raises his head and sits up. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, which he then carelessly rubs off onto his thigh. His cock juts out, neglected, and a wave of warm lust rolls through you once more. Jesus, this man might kill you.

“Let me help you,” you murmur, and sit up on your knees. Kneeling in front of him, you lick a wet stripe from the base to the head of his cock. He grunts. You do it again, on the other side, and then press the head into your mouth, pushing down and pulling back up. 

Hanzo’s quiet, bucking slightly into your mouth as you work his cock. You push down further, pressing it to the back of your throat, and his face twists in pleasure, but he still doesn't take the hint. 

You pull off, sloppy, with spit hanging in strings between your lips and the head of his cock. From off to the side, Jesse mutters a fervent, “ _Fuck._ ”

“Fuck my mouth,” you say hoarsely, and suck Hanzo’s cock back into your mouth as deep as you can.

Hanzo hisses in a breath through his teeth and does. He brings his hand up to the back of your head and grabs your hair, pulls it, fucking against the wet heat of your throat. He bites his lip, gaze torn between the sight before him and Jesse in his chair. Hanzo thrusts deep and holds it, your throat fluttering around the intrusion, and you hear Jesse grunt, a deep, primal sound. He says, “Hanzo,” and Hanzo puts his fingers to your jaw, squeezes slightly, and pulls out. His wide eyes are on Jesse; you turn in time to see Jesse spill over his fist, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. Hanzo puts his hand on your shoulder; you lay back and without hesitation Hanzo spreads your thighs wide, presses against your entrance and pushes inside you. He groans, a low, dirty sound, and begins to thrust, hips snapping against you again and again. It's fast and hard and the feeling of his bare skin is so intimate it clenches your heart like a vice. 

Jesse says, “Aw, Hanzo, sweetheart.” His voice sounds strangled.

Hanzo pumps in a handful more times and then stiffens, pulls out, and comes in hot spurts against your stomach, stroking himself to completion.

He groans, leaning forward on the bed, and kisses your hip. You feel sated and drowsy, comfortable, and slightly like you're intruding. Jesse stands up, goes to the bathroom, and comes back with two wet washcloths. He tosses one to Hanzo and uses the other one to clean himself off. Hanzo wipes the cloth against your stomach, balls it up, and tosses it to the floor. 

“Hey now,” Jesse chides, bending over to scoop it up. “Mind your manners when you're in someone else's room.” He heads back into the bathroom and emerges wearing boxers; you stand and gather your clothes, dressing quickly. As you're dressing you glance up and see them kissing; it's sweet and intimate, their noses bumping together as they move in tandem.

Hanzo intercepts you as you move to the door. He pulls your wrist and you turn, surprised when he kisses you deeply. Jesse saunters up and slings an arm around Hanzo’s shoulders. You step back, dazed, and Jesse chuckles.

“Thanks,” you say. “That was… I mean… wow.”  


Hanzo hums lightly. “I agree.” He and Jesse exchange a brief glance, and with a smile, he says, “Perhaps we could do it again sometime.”  


And boy, if that doesn't set your heart singing.


End file.
